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Author: Jen

First love

Among my cardboard boxes, there is another. It’s plastic. A clear Tupperware container with a blue cover marked “Jen’s papers.” I laugh a little at this ...

Name this photo

The lump in my throat called life

The first sensation is a swell in the space behind the back of my tongue but before my esophagus. What is that space called? High ...

I don’t know why I’ve been dreaming ’bout the Echelon Mall

Tacos for 79 cents, mild sauce ask for extra and squeeze Children’s Place, a tunnel with carpet inside crawl through the storefront window My first ...

My heart hurts with how much I love libraries right now

I’ve been suffering the symptoms of drought since I moved to Israel three years ago, but I didn’t know it until I swam again in ...

Music is a Gift with Legs

I’m a big believer in the magic of books, music, and people falling into your lap when you least expect them to and when you ...

Blogger challenge: My ideal hours would be …

Sitting on the carpet combing tracks down your long brown hair with a blue-handled brush — Sitting on the carpet across from your wrinkled hands ...

Lay flat to dry

I’ve started to play with my label. It’s itching me a little. I tried moving my neck side to side to see if it would ...

Art of attraction

Art begets art, don’t you think? Of course, we may disagree on the definition of art. But I find the more I notice, the more ...

This poem comes in pencil only

This guy popped out of nowhere after 30 or so years just when I needed him most. He looks like a dapper old cat, but ...

Tell me a secret I don’t already know

Almost as much as I am fascinated by memory and by man’s search for meaning, I am insanely curious about secrets. I’m fascinated by why we keep ...

Return to sender

I let go of Shira yesterday. I called her up on the phone, walked over to her house, met her on the path there, and ...

Pretty lies

If I could play piano as deftly as I do in my dreams If I could sing and you could hear the rich tones I ...

What’s Off-Limits When I Die

Who gets to decide what of yours gets published after you’re gone? Who says that your journals, your letters, your doodles in the margins get ...

The Things We Keep

When my husband and I were first married, we were part of a group of people in Tucson, Arizona designing a new cohousing community— our ...

Since I put your picture in a frame

There’s a photo in one of the albums in one of my cardboard boxes that nobody posing would want me to scan and post anywhere. ...

The poetry inside other people’s cardboard boxes

A new hobby is birthing itself, pushing its way out.  Like when I took to exploring New York with my neck cranked back gazing up at ...

Egyptian Eye

The weekend arrives and most of us crave comfort food. Doesn’t matter if we’re so old we force ourselves to gulp down steel cut oats ...

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